


Falsetto & Lipstick

by Absolute_Trash_Fire



Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Sex, Can be described with my username, Craig is a tender top, Crossdressing Kink, Focuses on Creek, Grinding, I wanna say there's plot, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Please don't kinkshame me uwu, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Surprise(?) at the end, The least sexy thing you'll ever read lol, Tweek pretends to hate it, Virtually no revision/organization, but really, corsets, this is just porn lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 21:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19364215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolute_Trash_Fire/pseuds/Absolute_Trash_Fire
Summary: When a rising star actor celebrates his new movie with a party, everyone is invited. Well, almost everyone. It's an unspoken rule that queers don't show up to the bigoted bastard's newly built mansion. Sure, it's a once-in-a-lifetime experience for these local couples, but this guy won't budge. But... What if Craig and Tweek, along with Kenny and Butters, don't look like a gay couple?





	Falsetto & Lipstick

**Author's Note:**

> *Lots of inspiration from craigtuckeradvocate's 'It's a Rich Man's World' along with some other cool works. Hopefully I contribute something new and different to this corner of the fandom.
> 
> *Yes, I'm still working on 'Oh My God, They Were Cellmates,' but I'm a few chapters ahead, and this idea came to mind. Plus, I felt bad about chapters 2-7 being kinda short, so consider this my shitty apology. 
> 
> *Basically just indulgent one-shot porn of a concept I took a little further than most others. Feel free to roast my nuts in the comments

“ _Craig_ , this isn’t going to work!” Tweek whispers harshly as the line inches ever-closer to the main entrance. By his side is his boyfriend, black hair cut & faded earlier that day. He glances down, sage green eyes glittering with faint amusement. “Calm down, honey. It’ll be fine.” The nervous young man resists the urge to pull on his hair--Tricia had spent damn near two hours wrestling it into a curled bob, after all. It would be rude to ruin her hard work. Ahead of them is a recently built mansion, and they wait in a long line of people on the property of an up and coming celebrity. Craig scuffs the ground with his polished loafers, looking idly at the night sky. “It’s not gonna be okay! _We’re gonna get caught_!” his anxious boyfriend insists.

 

Nobody knows the owner of this giant house. All they know is he’s young, talented, and moving up in the industry. To celebrate a soon-to-be released movie, he hosts a gala, themed in the era of ballroom dancing and frivolous, extravagant spending: it comes off as a bastardization of the mid-1800s and 1920’s. He invites everyone in his home town of South Park to this once in a lifetime experience, which offers luxurious food, alcohol, live music, dancing, and much more! Who wouldn’t want to come? But this rising star was never discreet in his bigotry and bias. It’s an unspoken rule that queer couples do _not_ show up at his door. They will be turned away less than politely, scoffed at for even _thinking_ they were welcome. 

 

And with that restriction in mind, Tweek Tweak and Craig Tucker approach this behemoth of a wealthy man’s home. They had a plan in place; this plan came largely from Kenny McCormick, shared with them by _his_ significant other, Leopold “Butters” Stotch. The twitchy blond had next to no faith in this scheme, and it continued to drop with every step they took to the front door. He worries at his lower lip with his teeth, and jumps at the feeling of a hand laying against his lower back. “C’mon babe, breathe.You look lovely.” Tweek rolls his eyes, yelping a little as the noirette thumbs at his chin. “Hey, open up. You got a little-- Here.” Handkerchief in hand, Craig delicately wipes the scarlet lipstick from his front teeth. “I’m telling you, this is gonna end badly.” the blond murmurs, though his tone is less snappish this time. 

 

His boyfriend smiles fondly, pressing a light kiss to his forehead, carefully avoiding the styled curls(Tricia had managed to portray a 1920’s flapper vibe pretty well). He grabs at Tweek’s waist, humming thoughtfully while drumming his fingers against the silky fabric. The blond looks down, flushing a little. It’s still hard to grasp this scenario as real. 

 

Kenny had busted into their shared apartment two days ago, followed by Butters’ more respectful entry. He’d honestly looked like a psychopath, all wild grins and speaking too quickly to be understood. The demure blond at his side relayed the information calmly, though the quirk in his lips betrayed his excitement. Sure, the dickwad of a millionaire forbid gay couples from setting foot in his mansion. But! What if they didn’t _look_ like a gay couple? The group sits down and hastily throws together an approach to this conundrum. After hours of hastily scheduled tailoring visits with some close friends, beauty research, trips to salons, a last-minute spa treatment, some shopping, and practice for the big night, they stand in this long-ass line, the embodied fruits of their labors.

 

Craig discreetly admires his partner, grinning as he smooths the wrinkles out of his floor-length ball gown skirt. The blond didn’t seem too upset about wearing a corset and skirt until they were actually on the front walkway. He looks more worried about being caught than being emasculated in public. He lightly runs his hand over the back of Tweek’s steel-boned corset, noting the slightest give in this binding article of clothing. It’s not _too_ tight--he can breathe properly. The fidgety blond glances over at him as they inch forward, meeting his eyes and blinking in confusion. “What?” He keeps his voice low, afraid of being recognized as a man in heels and contoured makeup meant to soften his features. Craig leans over until his lips nearly brush his boyfriend’s ear, mindful of the silver jewelry dangling from the lobe. “You look really sexy, Tweek.” Tweek sputters and flushes bright red, the coloration reaching the tips of his ears and down his neck. He pulls the black, lacy shawl around his shoulders just a little tighter, looking away with a huff. Now the noirette figures he’d make a game out of it, openly looking the blond’s frame up and down. This behavior always embarrassed the hell out of Tweek.

 

He’d always looked so damn endearing while flustered, though. Craig couldn’t help himself. The shorter male wears a wine red skirt accented with overlapping strips of black lace along the bottom hem, the toes of his black heels peeking from under the edge. His corset is also black, a satin base detailed with a layer flower-patterned lace of the same hue. Tricia had just barely stuffed the top to give the illusion of breasts, despite the article of clothing easily cinching flush with his skin _without_ the addition of foam padding pulled from an old bra. There's a clip pinning that buttery-gold hair behind his right ear, ornamented with a red rose made of fabric. Craig loosely matches with his black tuxedo and the red flower pinned to his lapel. He just grins to himself, looping an arm around his boyfriend's waist and running his tongue over his teeth. Tweek flushes, opening his borrowed lace fan with a flourish and hiding his face. "Oh, you've got a _fan_ , too? Did you change anything else up while I wasn't looking?" the noirette asks quietly, nuzzling the top of the blond's head with a smirk. "Better not get _too_ comfortable, asshole. We're getting closer to the front of the line." Tweek hisses. Craig looks ahead, and perks up a little. "Okay, babe. We get to see if this works without even getting there." he murmurs, pointing out a familiar couple.

 

Kenny and Butters are damn near at the very front. The taller of the two had his sandy blond hair combed back, a smug grin on his freckled face as he glances down at his date. He'd bought an actual tuxedo for tonight, but _his_ outfit is not what caught Tweek's attention. Butters _really_ went the whole nine yards with this event. A pale blond wig has delicate curls flowing over his shoulders, obscuring his scarred left eye. He wears a mint green dress that is practically _princessy_ , the cowled main skirt overlapping frilly, layered petticoats, the latter being white as a fucking wedding dress. He's also got a corset, the same pastel green, silky, and lined with lace, but made little to no attempt to recreate a feminine figure, with a tan cropped jacket covering his shoulders. His makeup is soft and pale, almost leaning toward natural hues, and his stilettos click against the pavement. He's had to have done this before. There's no way in _hell_ he was able to throw his voice that high without practice. Everything about his posture screams girlish innocence. The bouncers at the door hardly blink twice, letting the couple in without an ounce of suspicion. Craig turns to his boyfriend with a smile. "See? We'll be fine." Tweek nods with a shaky sigh.

 

All too soon, they're at the door, the nervous blond fanning himself. He does surprisingly well in keeping his twitching in check, curling his free hand around Craig's offered arm. The bouncers glance between them, and Tweek musters up a convincing smile, a little fluttering wave. "Hello, gentlemen." he says softly in a lilting, all too convincing falsetto. And just as they'd let the other blonds in, the pair pass through to find themselves in a massive, polished foyer. The music drifts from a large set of double doors, which leads into a ball room. True to the offer, a band plays classical pieces in the corner, and a massive buffet welcomes them. Kenny turns abruptly to wave them over. "Heyyy~ Aren't you two just _delectable_?" Butters giggles a little, nodding in agreement. "Try the food--it's really good." he murmurs, nodding toward the tables before fixing his "hair."

 

Tweek hums, quickly relaxing and taking his partner's hand into his own. They were past the one thing he was worried about. As the pair pick through the appetizers, the shorter male speaks quietly, though he still lifts his voice into the effeminate vocal range. "No alcohol, okay? There's too many ways that could go wrong." Craig nods, biting into a stuffed mushroom. His eyes widen. "What the fuck." Tweek's eyebrows furrow, and he's about to ask when-- "This shit is fantastic." Of course. Craig's been a food snob for years. The blond watches fondly as his boyfriend tries just a little bit of everything, occasionally sampling his own plate(mostly filled with sweets). After a while, the noirette stops with a contented sigh, before offering what seems to be a chocolate-covered cherry, held between his middle and index finger. Tweek glances from the confection to the taller male's neutral expression before delicately taking the sweet with his teeth, maintaining eye contact. For a split second, Craig feels the slide of tongue against his digits, but then the blond is chewing the maraschino cherry with a happy hum. "That's really good!" He plucks a few more from the display dish while the noirette drinks some water, chews a couple of breath mints(he doubted the secondhand taste of appetizers would be terribly appealing), and places a hand on each of Tweek's hips. "Wanna go dance? I _sorta_ remember how to slow dance." His boyfriend nods, licking the chocolate off of his left thumb. "Let's go." The blond's tone is still high, and delicate--he's doing it as a joke now. 

 

Craig guides him to the clearing in the center of the spacious room, turning to his boyfriend with a faint grin. "Ready, babe?" Tweek rolls his eyes, laughing softly. "Uh huh." You'd think with the preparation, and the elegant attire, they'd be the picture of grace. But… When they dance, it's awkward, halting. Both of them bend their heads down too frequently, struggling to keep track of the movement of their feet. They knock their foreheads together every now and then, but this is met with giggling and lighthearted taunts. Craig has one of Tweek's slender hands grasped in his own, the other lightly pressing at his waist. The blond mirrors him, though his right hand lands on the taller male's shoulder. As they sway, a mischievous smirk crosses the noirette's features. Without warning, he digs his fingers into Tweek's side, entirely too amused by the squeak that escapes his lips. The shorter male jumps and wobbles on his heels, but rather than potentially breaking his ankles, he lurches forward and tosses his arms around Craig's neck. "What's the matter, babe? You're usually more graceful than this." he teases, admiring the way those blue eyes glitter with defiance, as if rising up to a challenge. "Well, I also rarely walk on stilts." he murmurs before pressing a firm kiss to the noirette's lips. Craig tenses up a little before curling his arms around Tweek's lower back with a pleased sigh. 

 

His lips are soft, slightly glossy, and his mouth still tastes like those damned cherries. The faint smell of perfume clings to his skin, and the noirette briefly wonders where he'd have to bury his face to get more than a passing whiff of that sweet scent. Tweek pulls back with a soft smack, an amused smile gracing those painted lips. "That color looks good on you." he notes with a giggle, smearing the lipstick at the corner of Craig's mouth. The noirette's mouth runs dry; at first, it was only a mild interest for him, seeing his boyfriend in a dress and makeup, but now…

 

Now his brain is running to dangerous places. He coughs awkwardly, trying to keep his thoughts in check. Tweek raises an eyebrow as Craig's face flushes a little. Before he can ask why he'd suddenly gone rigid, Kenny pops in, jabbing a finger eagerly toward a doorway at the far corner of the room. "Lots of couples running that way, most of them got hardcore bedroom eyes. Leo and I are gonna check it out. Wanna come with?" This time, Tweek's response is halted by Craig, "Sure." He stares at the noirette, quickly becoming frazzled. "Wait! But, what if someone-- _I dunno_ , what if someone figures us out?" Butters steps in this time. "I think the other couples will be too caught up in each other to notice you two." Craig nods, and looks at the blond expectantly. "C'mon, honey. Aren't you curious? Besides, I don't think our legs will cooperate with any more dancing. Best to not shatter your ankles, right?" Tweek narrows his eyes, glancing at the three expectant looks being directed at him, before nodding with a huff. "Fine." They all turn and march toward the darkened little exit, Butters and Kenny whispering excitedly. 

 

Some kind of air freshener had been prepared in advance, but the smell of citrus didn't do much to mask the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, or the faint stink of sex. Kenny nudges Butters, whispers something obscene, and the petite blond snickers quietly, trotting after him as his date pushes ahead. The pair disappear down the darkened halls rather quickly, and Craig looks over at Tweek with a little smile. "This is interesting, right?" He receives a scoff, though the flustered young man is clearly blushing. "C'mon." With that, Tweek is being guided down the halls, the noirette pausing to glance into different doorways. "Found Kenny and "Margarine," babe." he whispers with a grin. 

 

Most couples had neither the patience nor fully perverse intent to search out secluded bedrooms. They settled for studies, small libraries, drawing rooms, and other innocuous places to form small crowds of pairs, sometimes groups of three, and enjoy the low light and plush furniture. Behind this door is a moderately sized living room, with some couches, a couple of lounge seats, arm chairs, and a desk or two. Toward the back of the room, Tweek can seen Kenny caging Butters against a wall, hands roaming and mouth wandering along his shoulders and neck. He glances at Craig, who wiggles his eyebrows and gives an almost silent chuckle. "Shall we find a seat, _my dear_?" he murmurs quietly, gingerly taking the anxious blond's hand. Tweek narrows his eyes. "You're playing with fire, Tucker." The noirette just laughs and ushers him into the room. "C'mon, it'll be fun." he insists lightheartedly. "Fun for you, maybe." Tweek mutters before giving a startled squeak as Craig drags him further into the room. They weave between couples standing close to each other, lounging on furniture, leaning on walls, until Craig spots a couch pushed close to the back corner, a young man and woman easing off of the cushions to wander into the hall. He drops onto the plush seating, arms resting along the back cushions. Tweek shuffles close, though maintains a hesitant distance, which has the noirette sitting up, reaching out, and tugging at the blond's skirt, gently guiding him to stand between his knees. Craig studies the nervous look in those blue eyes, and lightly rubs at his hips reassuringly. "We can leave, if you want. I don't want to scare you." His boyfriend blinks, fidgets with the front of his skirt, and sighs softly. "Mm. No. We worked too hard to just ditch this party." The noirette slowly grins, easing Tweek's skirt up just far enough to grab the backs of his knees, and tugs him into his lap. He's careful to keep the fabric out from under the blond's legs, in an attempt to prevent the cloth from catching and tearing. Once satisfied by their position, Craig grabs at his twitchy partner's waist, pulling him closer until they're nearly chest-to-chest. Tweek flushes, and jumps when the noirette gently grips his jaw, guiding him into a kiss. At first, it's just a light press of lips, but then Craig's running his tongue along the seam of those gleaming, scarlet lips, amused by his attempt to mask the soapy taste of cosmetics with fruity lip gloss. The blond opens shyly, hesitantly wrapping his arms around his partner's neck. This embarrassed him--the step beyond innocent PDA into something sensual and secretive. He whimpers at the slide of tongue against his own, instinctively leaning against the noirette's chest. 

 

Craig just holds him there, until Tweek relaxes into the languid kiss, occasionally giving a contented sigh. And then, just to be a little shit, he grabs at the blond's ass roughly, smirking when their lips separate and a whine is muffled behind slender, manicured fingers. Tweek looks at him pleadingly, face slowly heating up. Rather than backing off, the noirette tests the waters, sliding his hands to the outside of the thighs still straddling him, and presses fluttering kisses to his boyfriend's throat. A hand lurches beyond his neck to grip the jacket between Craig's shoulder blades, the blond struggling to contain the heated noises building in his throat. There's teeth now, the taller male smiling against Tweek's pulse point when fingers twist into the front of his jacket. The shorter man in his lap is floundering, making wild attempts to contain his pleasure. Craig kisses his chest, tempted to pull the padding from his corset, and nibbles at the milky skin just above the dark fabric. Tweek begins panting against his neck, twitching with each press of lips being peppered along his torso. With impressive subtlety, he slips his hands under the skirt currently pooled around their waists, and runs his fingertips along his boyfriend's slender ankles. At this, Tweek jumps, immediately huddling against Craig's chest, one hand covering his mouth, the other still clutching the front of his jacket. "You're cute." the noirette murmurs quietly, leaning his cheek against blond hair and hovering near his ear. "And pretty. _Pretty_ boy." Tweek utters a muffled retort: "Pretty, huh? Are you going straight on me, Tucker?" This makes Craig laugh, and he kisses his boyfriend's temple, hands wandering up his calves. "No, honey. I like seeing you all dressed up because it feels like you're a present." His voice drops to a whisper as his palms slip up, onto Tweek's knees. The blond's breath hitches, and he quivers as his partner's lips brush against his ear. "A lovely present… All just for me… To unwrap later." 

 

Honestly, Craig had expected the black stockings beneath his fingers to end at the mid-calf, but they didn't. They just kept going, well beyond Tweek's knees. When they end, there's a band of lace encircling the blond's upper thigh, and the noirette pauses. A grin breaks out onto his lips as his hands rest on top of Tweek's legs. "Just how many surprises do you have for me, babe?" he whispers, snapping taut garter belts against pale skin. At this, the blond jumps, moaning into his palm. For a moment, Craig just kneads at the flesh between the stockings and garters, noting the absence of hair. _He'd shaved, too._ His hair smells like flowers, breath tastes like cherries, and every inch of his skin feels like silk. The noirette utters a soft groan, fingers travelling further up Tweek's legs until they brush against, surprise, surprise, _more fucking lace_ . "You really went all the way for tonight, huh?" He doesn't get a response, and simply inches his digits under the panties the blond is wearing, keeping his hands only on his boyfriend's angular hips. "C'mon babe, talk to me. Wanna hear your pretty voice." the noirette mumbles, slipping his hands out and cupping Tweek's ass. This is met with stubborn silence, so Craig pulls him just a little closer to his chest. The blond assumes he'd done this just to wrap his arms around his waist, probably grope at him some more, but he is proven very, _very_ wrong.

 

Holding the twitchy man in place, the noirette begins to rut against him, slow and _hard_ . His clothed cock rubs against his balls, the tip just slightly pushing between his ass cheeks. Tweek barely manages to stifle a whine as the man between his thighs grinds on him _in a room full of people_ . Without warning, Craig palms the blond's erection, massaging the heated length through his panties until it throbs with need. Tweek looks at him now, eyes filled with desperation as he resists the urge to roll his hips. "Craig, _please_ ." he whispers. "What do you need, pretty boy?" The shorter male flushes, opens and closes his mouth a few times, and finds himself unable to speak, gripping his partner’s tuxedo jacket. Craig's chest rumbles with quiet laughter. "Wanna go somewhere quiet? I still need to see the rest of my _gorgeous_ boyfriend." Tweek nods, carefully climbing off of the noirette's lap.

 

In the dim halls, no one can see the lipstick on Craig's face, or the tent in his pants, and Tweek's erection is hidden in the shallow folds of his skirt. They continue to walk briskly, turning corners until there is only silence. The taller of the pair begins opening doors, and scanning the empty rooms; after a few minutes, he nods, ushering Tweek through a doorway and shuts the door quietly. Almost immediately, the sound of a lock clicking echoes, and the lights in what seems to be a guest bedroom flicker to life. 

 

Craig stares the blond down hungrily, backing him further into the room until the shorter male sits heavily on the king-sized mattress. He pauses to tug the fakes breasts from his corset with a frown before nodding to himself. The noirette drops to his knees, delicately tugging the red fabric up until it crests Tweek's knees. He doesn't push it any further, though. Doesn't reveal the garters or panties he'd been so excited about. Rather, he _ducks under_ the blond's skirt, allowing it drape over his shoulders and back like some blasphemous wedding veil. Tweek tenses up a little, dick twitching as Craig gropes his thighs, pushing them apart and stroking the outsides lightly. He can't see him--it's like he's blindfolded, but the lights are on, and Craig's torso is clearly outlined under the silky cloth. A kiss pressed to the inside of his left thigh makes the blond twitch and whine. More light pecks follow, slowly travelling up. For a moment, his boyfriend stops, and Tweek's about to ask if something is wrong, when teeth graze his right leg. Craig begins nibbling and sucking at the pale skin, inching ever closer to the twitching length straining against the blond's frilly underwear. Tweek moans and instinctively leans back on his palms, spreading his legs further in his excited apprehension. A kiss is pressed to each of the creases where the shorter male's legs join those narrow hips, and Tweek can feel the taller male’s breath ghosting over his length. 

 

He lets his head drop back, eager with anticipation. But Craig’s hands do not come up to free his cock--he nudges the heels off of the blond’s feet instead, the shoes thudding against the carpet. Tweek sits up a little, becoming confused, but then the noirette is massaging his balls through the lace, and mouthing against his clothed erection. He takes the head into his mouth, and his saliva, along with the precum leaking from the tip, begin to soak into the soft fabric. The shorter male’s hips stutter as he tries to stop himself from thrusting up, and he cries out loudly when Craig suddenly takes all of his length down with one go. He’s loud now, shamelessly moaning into the quiet room as the man between his legs bobs his head. His legs curl in a little, feet resting on his partner’s back. _So that’s why he took his shoes off._ “ _Fuck_ \-- Craig, stop. If you keep doing that, I’m gonna--” The taller male pulls back, delivers a last lick to his boyfriend’s cock, running from base to tip, and slips out from under his skirt.

 

He steps back, removing his jacket, and begins to unbutton his dress shirt. As he slips the white fabric from his shoulders, he studies the blond sitting on the edge of the bed. Tweek’s hair is back to its usual messy state, sticking up in every direction(just the way Craig likes it, if he’s being honest). His face is flushed, lipstick smeared, neck and shoulders dusted with hickies, and chest heaving as he pants softly. There’s a smirk on the Craig’s lips as he toes out of his shoes and begins loosening his belt. “Hey, babe. Show me what you’ve been hiding all night. I only got to _feel_ it, y’know?” His boyfriend’s blush darkens, reaching up to his ears and down his neck. “Why don’t you come look for yourself?” he challenges meekly. “Nah. Wanna see _you_ do it.” When the noirette only looks at him expectantly, immune to his pleading blue eyes, he tentatively begins gathering the fabric in his hands, slowly lifting it off of his lap and spreading his legs. With a final tug, the skirt is up and out of the way, clutched against Tweek’s chest.

 

“There we go-- what a pretty boy…” Craig says softly, eyes raking over the shorter male’s black stockings, the lacy garters clinging to his slim thighs, with their little belts. His erection strains against red panties, the fabric detailed with black flower patterns and hemmed with thin strips of lace; the front is still damp from the taller male’s teasing. Tweek’s legs quiver, and he hides his face behind his skirt, dick twitching under the noirette’s rapt attention. Craig approaches silently, hooking his fingers under the waistband of his partner’s delicate underwear, and pulls the confining cloth down, skimming over those slender legs with a little chuckle. His boyfriend’s cock is flushed, so hard it’s heavy, and the tip weeps a pearly substance. The noirette circles the bed, crawling onto the mattress to sit behind the blond. He runs his hands over Tweek’s thighs, eventually taking his aching erection into his hand, jerking idly. This earns a pleased sigh, the shorter male leaning against his bare chest. “Alright, honey. I’m gonna fuck you, _but_ you need to do something for me.” Blue eyes meet his as the twitchy young man glances over his shoulder expectantly. “What is it?” Craig grins, kissing the nape of his neck. “I’m gonna lay back against the pillows,” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of lube. “ _You planned this-!_ ” Tweek is silenced with a kiss, and he scowls. “And you’re gonna open yourself up. I wanna see my pretty boy work--you always look so lovely with your ass on display.” 

 

This makes the blond flush, and he looks away with a quiet whine. He sighs, pretending this is a massive inconvenience, but the way his cock visibly throbs betrays his true feelings about the situation. Craig hands him the little bottle and moves back to sit against the pillows, lounging while he props himself up with his elbows. Tweek shifts onto his hands and knees, facing away from his boyfriend, and presses his face and shoulders into the mattress. It takes a moment, but he tugs his skirt up and over his hips, making his rear(not to mention his dick) fully visible, and coats his fingers in lube. The blond widens his stance, exposing his rim, and reaches his slicked fingers between his legs, struggling for a moment to find his way through the mess of fabric. His free hand grabs at the sheets while he eases his middle finger in; the way he gives a relieved sigh has the noirette grinning to himself. “Eager, are we?”

 

Tweek just huffs, thrusting the digits in and out of himself slowly. “ _Mm_ … Beautiful, honey. You look absolutely beautiful like this.” The blond whimpers in response, adding a second finger and curling his toes. There’s silence for a little moment, save for the shorter male’s panting and mewls. When he adds a third finger, a familiar, slick sound starts up behind him. His face heats up further--the noirette is jerking his cock to this display, the occasional grunt or growl escaping his throat. As he fans his fingers, occasionally brushing his prostate, Craig speaks up. “Okay, pretty boy. Get up for me? I wanna see your face when you sit on my cock.” Tweek blushes, pushing himself upright and turning to see the taller male still stroking his dick slowly; Craig had only unbuttoned his pants and fished his length out for this. He swallows hard, crawling to the noirette. The lube is taken from his fingers, and the blond watches as his partner squeezes it directly onto his pulsing erection. “Spread it for me?” Tweek nods a little, hands quivering as he jerks Craig’s length, smearing the clear fluid around liberally. “Good, good… _Mhm_ \-- Babe, c’mere.”

 

Suddenly, the blond is  pulled onto the taller male’s lap, and carefully aligns himself with his boyfriend’s cock. He sinks onto it, painfully slowly, and sighs happily when he bottoms out. His eyes meet Craig’s, and he immediately looks away. The noirette gently guides his face so he can look at Tweek’s bashful expression, smiling fondly. “ _Lovely_ .” he whispers. There’s a moment of peaceful stillness, the red skirt pooling over their lower halves and obscuring the sinful act they’re currently carrying out. Then Craig snaps his hips up a couple of times, enjoying the way the blond cries out, before reclining on the bed, hands laying on quivering hips. “Alright pretty boy. You ready to ride me?” Tweek nods, tucking his toes and splaying his palms on the taller male’s chest for leverage. He lifts himself halfway and drops, moving tentatively, whimpering at the brush to his prostate. “Good, good… God, this will _never_ get old.” Craig croons, rubbing at his partner’s waist. The blond raises himself a little higher, sinks a little harder, and slowly picks up the pace, fucking himself on the noirette’s cock. As if to encourage him further, his boyfriend begins groaning low in his throat, giving the occasional gasp and grunt. His hands wander up his skirt, stroking his thighs. “Lift this up, honey. Let me see.”

 

Tweek nods mindlessly, gathering the fabric against his chest with both hands and sitting up a little. Craig watches his cock disappear into the shorter male with a hungry grin. “Perfect. You’re _perfect_ , Tweek.” The blond cries out, head falling back as the man beneath him snaps his hips up. Fingers press into his hips, and pull him down roughly. He rolls his hips, gasping when Craig takes over, pounding up into him, hard and fast. His cock bounces with their thrusts, dripping precum heavily and twitching. Tweek grips the skirt in his fingers desperately, whining loudly as the bed creaks below them. Suddenly, the taller male rolls them over, and pulls out, earning a gasp and garbled pleas. “Shh, honey, let me just--” He shucks the skirt from his boyfriend’s hips, admiring his pale skin and the way it contrasts against the corset(steadily loosening on its own). and the stockings with their garters clinging to his legs. “Pretty.” he murmurs for the umpteenth time, tossing Tweek’s legs over his shoulders. When he aligns them again and pushes into the blond again, his name is being chanted like a prayer, blue eyes hazy and unfocused with lust. “C-Craig, _please_.”

 

“I know baby. I’ve got you.” he says with a light laugh, taking the shorter male’s cock into his right hand. Their halting exchange of pleas and praise spirals into a muted cacophony of moaning, whines, and the slick sound of their skin slapping together. All too soon, Tweek comes undone, painting his black corset with cum. The reflexive clench around his length, the unabashed way he screams out his pleasure, and the blissed-out look on his boyfriend’s face… It’s too much. Craig pounds into him when his orgasm hits, gripping the blond’s legs with bruising strength. Eventually, the only sound in the room is their panting, the shorter male’s legs falling open and to the sides as he goes limp. The noirette gathers trembling fingers into his own hands, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm. “Love you. Love you, Tweek.” Tweek sighs with a little smile. “Love you too, asswipe.” This makes Craig laugh. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you cleaned up.” They sneak down the hall to an unoccupied bathroom, sharing a shower largely consisting of tender kisses and fond jokes.

 

Meanwhile, in a different corner of the mansion, a Mr. Kenny McCormick is very vocal  in his enjoyment of being fucked by a man in a dress, none other than Leopold “Butters” Stotch, the latter having ditched his outer skirts in favor of simply hiking up white frills. The owner of the mansion is none the wiser to a pair of men on his own bed, the one in the tuxedo bottoming, no less. He doesn’t notice the suspiciously excessive cum stains on his sheets until the next morning. His assumption is an orgy, or something like that. Perhaps it’s better that way. He’d have a heart attack if he knew, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> :O 
> 
> Craig is a soft lover  
> and  
> Kenny is a slutty switch  
> Don't deny it 
> 
> Kk smooches


End file.
